


Memories

by RubyCaspar



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Aphrodite is Bellarke trash, Athena just wants everyone to sort their shit out, Canon divergence - Greek Gods, F/M, Gen, Hephaestus is a Raven fanboy, Sooo... the Greek gods are living on top of Mount Weather, and Dionysus is only there for the booze, and they like to meddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 02:02:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3363647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyCaspar/pseuds/RubyCaspar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gods survive by virtue of being remembered. Memory must be protected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the Bellarke Valentine's Day gift exchange on Tumblr, for alistairtheiren. It's very different to my usual writing style and plot, but hopefully not too out there to be enjoyable. I did have a lot of fun writing it as I was able to let my Greek mythology geekness roam free... Anyway, I hope you like it.

_What is a god without believers? No more than a myth, little more than a memory._

_So what becomes of that memory when there was no one to remember?_

_Memory must be protected._

XXX

They are aware of the city in the sky, of course, of the mortals living high above the Earth, outside the reach of their influence. It is not until a ship burns through the air towards the Mount that they pay it any mind.

The Mountain-dwellers must be protected, so they change its course and it lands on the next peak. They do not destroy it; perhaps the mortals of the sky will make good sport. The Ground-dwellers are predictable, and hold no challenge for them.

Nearly one hundred mortals survive the landing of the ship, and like the Ground-dwellers they need not fear the poison of the air. Unlike the Ground-dwellers, they carry with them something that they all feel wash over them the moment the ship opens its doors – memory.

Scouts are chosen and leave the Mount with purpose for the first time in many years, swift-footed and silent, eager to see these new mortals, so suddenly returned to the Earth. The Twins remain in the treeline, hunters observing their prey, but the Messenger goes among them for a while before returning to the Mount.

They sit in council to hear what he has seen. He kneels before his father’s throne.

“They are young – some are no more than children,” he explains. “They have a childish delight of the Earth – of the soil, the grass, of the trees and the air –”

“Delight of the Earth is not childish-“

His father holds up a hand, and his aunt falls silent.

“Continue.”

“They have no weapons, and little to sustain them,” he said, “no structure or leadership, and small sense of kinship. They wear electrical devices around their wrists. They are aware that Mount Weather has supplies, and a small party is on its way.”

There is general murmuring at this news, and he raises his head to look directly at his father. “Their path will lead them through Ground-dweller territory,” he said clearly. “They will not make it far.”

His uncle turns his head to address his father. “They will cross the river.”

His father pauses for a moment before nodding. “Very well.”

His uncle vanishes from his throne, and his father turns his attention back to him.

“Do they speak of us?”

“No, my Lord Father. And memory is strong in some but very faint in others, as with the Mountain-dwellers.”

“The Twins remain?”

“They do.”

“Very well. We will wait to hear what they learn. Arise.”

 He stands as his brother bangs his fist on the arm of his throne. “They are a danger to the Mountain-dwellers and not worth keeping alive – I say we kill them now!”

“Enough,” their father says, standing and glaring at his son. “Zeus has spoken. We wait.”

XXX

They are young. Some are mere children. Several died in the landing, and several more are injured, including a boy who is quick to get into a disagreement with another.

Artemis sneers as she watches them square off. They are alone in the world, surrounded by enemies, with no food, weapons or shelter, and they turn on each other within moment of their arrival. Typical male posturing.

Everyone else is too caught up in admiring their surroundings to realise their situation – everyone but one girl. She sees Hermes tense as the girl mentions Mount Weather, but Artemis smiles to herself; the girl has sense, wisdom and pluck.

It is one of the men, of course, that belittles her plan, but she does not let it sway her.  

Hermes vanishes as soon as the scouting party begin to leave the landing site, no doubt to report to the others. Artemis looks across the clearing to her brother, who reads her intent and nods his agreement. She shoulders her bow and follows the scouts.

XX

Poseidon watches from the far bank as the first of them comes over the ridge and sees the water. She immediately begins stripping off her clothes, and jumps into the river with no hesitation. Her companions appear over the ridge, and he sees what Hermes meant when he described their childlike delight in the earth. Like the Mountain-dwellers, they have never swum in a river before and are clearly eager to do so.

He senses it when the attention of the creature shifts to the girl in the water. It is a descendant of a freshwater eel, engorged beyond recognition by the poison of the air, but still born of the sea and under his control. He does nothing to stop its approach, though, only tilts his head and watches with interest as it attacks the girl and pulls her under.

In Poseidon’s experience, mortals would now either jump in the water to help, or stand by helplessly. Most did the latter. He is intrigued, then, when the other girl stops her companions from entering the water to help, and instead has them help her dislodge a rock to distract the creature.

It works.

Poseidon narrows his eyes as one of the boys enters the water to help the injured girl to shore. The creature is turning around, heading back to his prey. Poseidon kneels and places a hand on the surface of the river – the creature heeds his command and does not attempt to drag either of them back under, but swims harmlessly underneath them and away upstream.

Artemis steps out of the cover of the treeline behind him as the mortals gather together on the opposite shore.

“Intriguing, are they not, Uncle?”

Poseidon nods as he stood up. “Indeed.”

XX

Bellamy is Aphrodite’s favourite. He reminds her of the heroes of old, with his olive skin and dark hair, and the natural grace in his movements. He is capable of great love, as evident in the way he cares for his sister, and from what she has observed he is a passionate, considerate lover. But it is that dangerous edge he has to him that she likes the most – she always had been attracted to men with a touch of darkness within.

There are a number of potential romances in the camp, but none of them hold her attention the way Bellamy does. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem interested in anything beyond the physical.

Eros is no help.

“Absolutely not, mother,” he says the moment she approaches him. “Not again. And especially not for those two.”

“What do you mean, _especially not for those two_? They would be a perfect couple.”

“Exactly. They do _not_ need my help. Just time.”

Aphrodite sighs, but relents without further argument. He is right, of course – and there is something to be said for the excitement of watching a relationship blossom slowly out of nothing.

As long as neither of them is murdered by the Ground-dwellers before anything can happen.

She is watching Bellamy help build a section of the camp’s wall when she notices Demeter watching also. She joins her.

“It will not be enough to keep the Ground-dwellers out,” Demeter says. “What a waste of trees.”

Of _course_ she is watching the fence, rather than the builders. Aphrodite is the only goddess to appreciate true beauty. She says so.

Demeter shakes her head, but Aphrodite sees her looking at Bellamy.

“He reminds me of Triptolemus,” Demeter says after a moment. “Triptolemus had freckles, also.”

Aphrodite smiles.

“Will you take him as a lover?”

Aphrodite sighs. “No,” she says. “He has the strongest memory of them all, but memory is not enough – there is no real belief.”

“No,” Demeter agrees sadly.

“But I do not mind – there will be great love in his future, I am sure of it.”

“And who is the lady you see for him?”

Aphrodite gestures across the camp to Clarke.

Demeter laughs. “The fair one? You cannot be serious. They hate one another.”

Aphrodite smiles. “There is a fine line between love and hate.”

“Well I know better than to argue against you over such a matter,” Demeter says, looking far from convinced. “But I shall be watching.”

“As will I.”

XX

The next ship that falls from the sky has only one mortal on board, and she brings news from the floating city – the Ark – that sends the entire camp into a frenzy of activity. Most of the gods keep their distance, uninterested in these new developments, but Hephaestus is fascinated.

The girl that fell from the sky is called Raven, and she is a mechanic. What’s more, she is one of the most gifted mechanics he has ever seen.

She wastes no time in assuming command of the operation, and within hours they have three working flares.

It is too late for them to be effective, but it is impressive work nonetheless.

He follows her the next day, as she hunts for parts to fix the radio. He smiles as he watches her pull apart old toys, showing more ingenuity than any of the other mortals had done so far. His smile fades as he watches her realisation that the boy she loves had been unfaithful.

He knows something of that.

She works through her pain and anger to repair the radio, pushing aside her feelings and focusing on her work. Even when the boy is brought back, gravely wounded, she forces her hands to stop shaking and continues her tinkering. She is so close.

Hephaestus places a hand on Raven’s shoulder. She takes a deep breath, composes herself, and tries again.

This time there is a response.

XX

They sit in council as the hurricane batters the Mount. They need not worry – Zeus keeps the worst of the storm away.

Athena stands to speak, and all turn to hear her.

“We must protect the memory, _all_ memory,” she says. “We should do what we can to encourage an alliance between the Mountain-dwellers and the Arkers.”

There is a murmuring among the assembled gods, but Athena continues. “This is the logical course,” she insists. “If the rest of the Arkers come down from the sky, their numbers will match those of the Mountain-dwellers. We would double our strength.”

There is a thoughtful silence until Athena’s next words. “We might even encourage an alliance with the Ground-dwellers, if we are able.”

Apollo scoffs. “The Ground-dwellers have no memory of us.”

“Memory is fluid, it can be created,” said Athena. “ The other mortals will tell them our tales.”

Artemis shakes her head. “There will never be peace between the Mountain- and Ground-dwellers,” she says. “Too many have died. There is too much bad blood. Even now within the mountain, Ground-dwellers are kept as chattel. It will not be forgiven.”

Poseidon nodded. “As for the Arkers, the Mountain-dwellers are wary of all outsiders,” he says. “They will not let them get too near.”

“They are too vulnerable,” Apollo agrees. “One breach would be enough to kill them all.”

Athena sighs. “The Mountain-dwellers are safe for now,” she says. “So it is the Arkers that need our help against the Ground-dwellers. If we cannot protect the memories they hold through alliance, it must be through our aid.”

Zeus stands, and Athena takes her seat. “You may help them if you wish,” he says. “But the Mount remains our priority.”

XX

Ares is tired of waiting for something to happen. They are _waiting_ for more mortals to come down from the sky, _waiting_ to see if the Mountain-dwellers choose to make contact with the Arkers, _waiting_ for the Ground-dwellers to attack.

He had followed Bellamy and Clarke to the bunker, and now he is _waiting_ for them to find what is right under their nose.

Bellamy opens the barrel, but merely dips his finger into the oil and nothing more. Ares snarls, out of patience, and claps a hand on Bellamy’s shoulder – he does not feel the weight, but a spike of aggression makes him kick out at the barrel. The barrel tips, oil splashes over the floor, and the guns tumble out.

“That’s cheating.”

Ares turns to face Aphrodite, a sly smile on his face. “It was just a suggestion.”

They watch as Bellamy and Clarke hurry to search through the other barrels, pulling out dozens of guns and boxes of ammunition. Bellamy finds a sheet to hang as a target, and Ares turns to Aphrodite.

“Why are you here?”

“For them,” she says. “I find them fascinating. _Especially_ him… yes, especially him.”

Ares raises an eyebrow but says nothing. She is goading him.

“I cannot help but appreciate beauty,” she continues, running a hand down his arm. “And you know how I feel about _dangerous_ _men_.”

Ares growls and spins to face Aphrodite, pushing her back against the bunker wall with her wrists pinned either side of her head. “Oh yes,” he says, dipping his head to whisper in her ear. “I know how-“

“Wait, I want to see this.”

Aphrodite is staring at the mortals behind him, utterly enraptured by the sight of them. Ares turns his head to see that Bellamy is standing close to Clarke, teaching her how to hold the gun. He rolls his eyes and lets go of Aphrodite.

“Her form is terrible,” he says sullenly.

Aphrodite smirks up at him. “ _His_ is wonderful.”

Ares glares and reaches for her again, but she vanishes with a laugh, leaving only a hint of perfume on the air.

XX

It had been a long time since Dionysus has seen anyone attempting to make proper moonshine. The Ground-dwellers stick to beers, meads, and fortified wines, while the Mountain-dwellers have a working distillery.

You have to admire the ingenuity and determination of the… _thing_ in front of him. _Rudimentary_ is too high praise. He had tasted their previous efforts, and looking at the setup now, he can see where they had gone wrong.

They are to try to help these children against the Ground-dwellers, and this could hardly be considered a help to that end. But it was a necessity nonetheless.

Dionysus places a hand on the rig and feels the power of his blessing seep through its structure, fortifying the spirit forming at its base. He smiles.

At least he can do that much for them.

XX

Most of the gods are present at the Arker war council, watching as the four mortal leaders discuss their military options. Ares shakes his head as Bellamy talks the others through the mines and grenades but does not bother to speak – they all know the numbers of the Ground-dweller army. They all know it will not be enough.

Athena looks around the assembled gods. All are watching at the mortals except for Ares, who is frowning at the grenades, and Hephaestus, who is staring thoughtfully at the model of the dropship. Athena immediately understands, and touches Clarke’s shoulder.

_“It can’t be that simple. You said there’s fuel in that rocket, right? Enough to build a hundred bombs.”_

Hephaestus looks up at Athena, who nods at Raven. “Help her.”

He nods back. 

XX

The Ground-dwellers are too many, and many of the Arkers are still outside when the door of the dropship begins to close. Most of the gods are watching from the tree line, but Ares is in the thick of the battle, giving strength and steel to the Arkers where needed. He stops when the door starts to close – the Arkers can no longer benefit from his help, and the closer to the ship the Ground-dwellers get, the better.

He looks around as Ground-dwellers swell past him towards the ship – Athena, Poseidon, Dionysus, Apollo, Hermes – all look impassive. Only Aphrodite seems upset – Ares follows her gaze and sees she is staring at Bellamy and that other boy, both of whom are still fighting and are about to be overwhelmed.

It is probably too late to save them anyway, but he did not like to deprive Aphrodite of her fun. Besides, Bellamy had by far the strongest memory of them all, so there was a good enough reason for taking action.

He can help them in the fight at least – he makes his way to their side, and touches them both on the shoulder. Within moments, the Ground-dwellers they are fighting are on floor, and the two of them have a clear run to the edge of the camp.

Even so, Ares doubts they have time to put enough distance between themselves and the fire of the dropship.

“The tunnels! This way!” Bellamy yells as they run.

Ares raises his eyebrow. Perhaps there is hope for them yet.

XX

Hermes meets Athena on the third level. He had been conducting a thorough sweep of the facility, and is sure that Athena had already done the same.

“Forty-eight,” she says as he approaches, confirming his suspicions.

“Yes,” he agrees.

“Less than half.”

“More than we could have hoped even yesterday.”

Athena does not answer.

“Well, you have your alliance,” says Hermes. “The Arkers are here in the Mount, and safe from the Ground-dwellers.”

“They are prisoners.”

“Guests.”

“This will not end well.”

Hermes opens his mouth to answer, but feels the call before he can speak. “My Lord Father summons me,” he says instead.

Athena nods, and Hermes vanishes.

XX

The council sits in silence as Hermes finishes his report on the new Arker camp. He takes his seat at Zeus’ signal, and Athena looks at her father. He nods for her to speak.

“Everything has changed,” she says. “We are no longer speaking of a handful of mortal children – there are hundreds of Arkers now, and they need to be protected as much as the Mountain-dwellers.”

She looks around at the assembled gods. “We can all feel the strength of their memories. It must be protected.”

“What do you propose?” Asks Hera.  

“An alliance,” says Athena firmly. “We must encourage an alliance between the Mountain-dwellers and the Arkers. And we must start by making the Mountain-dwellers release the forty-eight.”

Zeus frowns. “You speak as though they are prisoners.”

“My Lord Father, you know the methods of the Mountain-dwellers. The alliance must be made before it can be ruined by their lack of foresight.”

“And then?” Poseidon demands. “The Arkers live in the Mount as well?”

Hermes shrugs. “They would be safe. “

“And stuck,” says Poseidon. “We need to reclaim the earth. The Arkers are our best chance of doing so.”

“They must be free to roam, and settle away from the Mount,” agrees Demeter.

“Very well,” says Ares. “Then we support the Arkers.“

“We do support them – we support them against the Ground-dwellers wherever possible,” says Demeter.

“I mean against the Mountain-dwellers.”

Demeter glares at Ares. “They are not at war, however much you may wish it.”

“Not yet,” says Ares simply.

“It is thanks to war that the earth is as it is!” Demeter exclaims. “And you still wish to pit them against one another?”

Ares shrugs, used to his aunt’s accusations. “Athena is right – war is coming. It always is.”

Zeus raises a hand before Demeter can answer. “Perhaps,” he says softly. “But President Wallace is an intelligent man; he will see the need for an alliance.”

He gazed round at them all. “We remain neutral. For now.”

XX

She hits the water hard, with no preparation, and is immediately knocked unconscious by the force. Poseidon isn’t sure where this falls on the scale of neutrality, but he feels Clarke is worth saving from drowning at least. The currents carry her safely to the shore.

XX

The workshop is cluttered and familiar. There are few engineers and mechanics among the new Arkers, and all are busy. Hephaestus walks among them, observing their work as they improve the integrity of the electric fence and tinker with the generators. One of them is clearly a leader, and gives orders in a calm, efficient manner.

None of them are as intuitive or skilled as Raven.

The leader leaves the workshop, and Hephaestus is about to follow when the engineer in the corner catches his eye. He recognises him – the man had visited Raven the day before, had asked the doctor many questions about Raven’s injury and her recovery time while she was sleeping. As Hephaestus watches, the man checks the door to ensure his leader has truly left, and then pulls out a contraption from under the table.

Hephaestus recognises it immediately, as he wears something similar – it is the beginnings of a leg brace. He watches the man thoughtfully for a moment before walking over to his station for a closer look. The brace is simple but seems to be well-designed. He has managed to scrounge some decent materials, at least.

The man has a battered notebook on the desk behind him, open to a drawing of the brace and its component parts. Hephaestus studies the drawing for a moment before picking up a pencil. He cannot heal Raven’s injury, but perhaps with this brace she will be able to adjust to her disability more easily.

He amends the measurements on the drawing and adds another strap before taking a seat on the other side of the room and watching the young engineer work.

XX

Demeter is watching a group of the Arkers tilling the earth for a vegetable patch when she hears Aphrodite laugh delightedly.

She looks around just in time to see Clarke throw her arms around Bellamy’s shoulders. He stands amazed for a moment before wrapping his arms tightly around her back and closing his eyes.

Aphrodite is standing a few feet away from them, and Demeter walks over to join her.

“I see your prediction is coming to pass,” she says with a smile.

Aphrodite laughs again. “She ran into his arms!” She says. “Did you see?”

Demeter nods as Clarke hugs Bellamy’s sister as well.

_“Where’s Finn?”_

Demeter raises an eyebrow at Aphrodite, who waves her hand dismissively. Demeter smiles indulgently and returns to the vegetable patch.

XX

“Well you wanted an alliance. Looks like you have one.”

Athena glares at Ares. “An alliance against the Mountain-dwellers was not the plan, but it may be of benefit yet,” she says haughtily.

Ares shrugs. “It will make it a fairer fight, at least.

XX

Zeus scowls at Hermes from his throne. “Say that again.”

“They have cages, my Lord Father. One for each of the forty-seven. They have locked two of them in them already, and have begun to operate on one of them, extracting her bone marrow against her will. She is gravely ill.”

Thunder rumbles overhead.

“Peace, husband,” says Hera softly. “Messenger, who orders this?”

“It is the President’s son, my lady, on the advice of the chief doctor. The President forbade them from carrying out such experiments, and is unaware that they went ahead.”

Thunder rumbles again. “What news from the meeting between the Arkers and the Ground-dwellers?”

“The alliance is sealed. The young Arker leader, Bellamy, is travelling here as we speak with a plan to infiltrate the mountain and free the forty-seven.”

Zeus nods. “See that he makes it here unharmed.”

Hermes bows his head. “Yes, my Lord Father.”

XX

Clarke does not watch as Bellamy leaves the camp with Lincoln, but Aphrodite can see that she is deliberately holding herself still, to keep from looking after him. The girl’s mind is a maelstrom of emotion that Aprodite can feel from across the camp.

Lexa sits on the other side of the fire, sharpening her weapons in silence. Aphrodite observes the two women with a sad smile, both so hurt by those they had loved and lost. She understands how Clarke aches from the loss of her father, of Wells, of Finn, and how she fears to be hurt further. She has latched onto Lexa’s description of love as weakness as though it were a lifeline, desperate for a way to escape the pain.

Aphrodite understands, but she is not accepting. Love is not weakness, it is fortitude, even when it hurt. She will not let Clarke forget that part of her.

She waits until Clarke is asleep, and then brushes her hand gently over her brow. Clarke will dream tonight, of all those she has loved and lost, and of those she still has. She will remember the strength they have given her.

She pauses, and then brushes Lexa’s brow as well. The Commander will dream of her Costia.

XX

Artemis steps carefully round the cage, eyeing the beast within. It cannot see her, but it senses her presence – a low growl starts in its chest and explodes in a snarl. She smiles, and reaches for the bar across the cage door.

It is worthy prey.

The beast leaps out of the door the moment the bar is lifted, and Artemis jumps easily onto the roof of the cage, landing in a crouch. Taking a deep breath, she wills herself to be visible for the first time in centuries.

The beast is snarling, beating at the ground with its fists. It senses her watching him and turns to face her, aggression clear throughout its coiled muscles.

It sees her and pauses, uncertain. Artemis stands slowly, her hand reaching for an arrow from her quiver.

Instinct tells the beast to flee, and it does. Artemis smiles again, nocks her arrow, and begins the hunt.

XX

Aphrodite sighs as she follows Clarke across the camp yet again. It is laughable, really, that this is what she is reduced to – following in the steps of a young girl, listening to _politics_ , all because she wants to be there when Bellamy makes contact.

But it has been so long since she had this; so long since she has had the remotest interest in a love story of the Mountain-dwellers. They have all become distressingly predictable.

So she follows.

Clarke makes her way into the room with the radio. Raven is there, and so is Hephaestus; Aphrodite is not surprised, as she knows the young mechanic is a source of fascination for her former husband.

Aphrodite barely pays attention as Clarke and Raven argue, and she resigns herself to following Clarke back across the camp again, when the radio blares to life.

_“Bellamy?”_

_“Clarke?”_

Aphrodite beams at the look of joy and relief on Clarke’s face; Clarke’s emotions are so strong that she can practically feel them without even touching her. It certainly makes up for having to follow her for the past two days.

XX

Athena stands at the edge of the crater, calmly surveying the missile damage. Ares appears next to her, but she does not look at him.

“How many survivors?” He asks.

“Less than thirty,” she answers. “Only those who were in the woods or on the outskirts. The missile was accurate.”

“That Clarke girl knew about it – did she not make it here in time to warn them?”

“She told the Ground-dweller Commander, and they chose not to alert the village, in order to protect the status of the spy. They are among the survivors.”

Demeter stands on the other side of the crater, her face impassive as she surveys the damage. She puts out a hand to touch the blackened trunk of a hewn tree, but does not make contact. Her hand tightens into a fist as she looks across the devastation at Ares, before turning on her heel and vanishing into the wood.

“Victory in war requires sacrifice,” says Ares.

Athena inclines her head, but does not speak. Words do not matter here – she and Ares know better than anyone what demands war makes of all.

There is a distant rumble of thunder, and Athena feels the summons from her father. She sees that Ares has felt it too, and they exchange a look before vanishing.

XX

“The Mountain-dwellers have officially imprisoned the forty-seven and are harvesting them one by one,” says Hera. Zeus sits with his hands clenched, and thunder rolls continuously overhead.

There is silence, finally broken by Ares. “Do we remain neutral?”

The thunder grows louder for a moment.

“Xenia is broken,” Zeus says shortly, “and the new President has imprisoned his father. The Mountain-dwellers have lost all rights to our protection.”

Zeus stands up. “We aid the Arkers,” he says.

XX

It is a different world – a wider world. Memory still needs to be protected, but it now ranges further than the Mountain-dwellers ever did, spreads beyond the confines of their walls.

The Arkers have taken control of the mountain, and show leniency to the few dozen Mountain-dwellers that survive – leniency that the Ground-dwellers do not feel. The alliance between they and Arkers still holds, but it is shakier than before, especially without the Commander to oversee it.

 It is not long after the final battle that Athena hears one of the Arkers, Kane, telling the story of the Trojan War to a group of Ground-dwellers, proving her point that knowledge and memory are fluid and can be passed on and remade. She smiles, especially happy that it is the story of the Trojan War that is being told – she hopes Aphrodite and Ares get to hear that their glorious defeat has still not been forgotten.

The Arkers are able to improve on the treatments the Mountain-dwellers had started without harming their people, and soon all of the remaining Mountain-dwellers were able to survive the poison air.

The day of their final treatments is the day of the party.

The Arkers, Ground-dwellers and Mountain-dwellers all gather together round the bonfires. Music plays, the mountain’s stock of alcohol is plundered, and game from nine separate hunting parties turn on spits. There is still tension between some of the Mountain- and Ground-dwellers, but the Arkers work hard to alleviate it, and the children of all three clans run and play together without a care for their elders’ politics.

Late in the evening, Aphrodite finds Demeter and leads her up the mountainside, away from the crowds and the noise, to a small clearing next to one of the bioluminescent ponds. The shining water casts an ethereal blue glow over the clearing, where two mortals are lying side by side, leaning on their elbows, staring up at the stars.

Bellamy and Clarke.

Demeter turns to Aphrodite, who looks beside herself with glee. “I believe the phrase the mortals use is ‘I told you so’,” she offers with a smile.

Aphrodite laughs. “It is,” she says. “Of course I would never say it.”

“Of course.”

It is then that Bellamy and Clarke lean towards each other and kiss – Aphrodite squeals.

Demeter places her hand on Aprodite’s arm and tries to pull her away. “Come, let them be,” she says.

“After I have waited all these months?” Aphrodite says, unmoving.

“Let them have tonight,” Demeter insists.

“But-”

Their kiss is now full of passion – Clarke has moved onto Bellamy’s lap, and his hands are fisted in her hair. Aphrodite watches with a hungry glint in her eye.

Demeter raises a hand and a small conifer tree springs out of the ground in front of them, blocking their view.

Aphrodite turns to Demeter angrily, but she only tightens her grip on her arm. “Let them have tonight,” she repeats.

XX

_Memory must be protected, but also shared and spread far and wide._

The End.


End file.
